


Thicker Than Blood

by carpfish



Series: Portfolio [2]
Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, Casual Sex, Fandom Bicycle, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Main story spoilers, Multiple Partners, Porn with Feelings, References to Aidou Seiya/Sakuma Sakuya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 01:20:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18713596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpfish/pseuds/carpfish
Summary: In which Chikage fucks his way around Mankai for life lessons and profit.





	Thicker Than Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Blood is thicker than water, but you know what's thicker than blood? Jizz. 
> 
> Additional (slightly spoilery) warnings:  
> \- V. vague references to previous sexual trauma (just know that Organization = Bad Times)  
> \- Brief appearances of: threesomes, spitroasting, breathplay, dom/sub, whipping, footjobs, first time
> 
> Fully italicized dialogue is spoken in Zahran.

Azuma is the first to proposition Chikage, which is hardly a surprise. What does surprise Chikage is that Azuma actually propositions- he _asks_ first. Chikage has yet to make a habit of sleeping through the night at Mankai, but it has been known to happen from time to time, and Azuma doesn’t strike him as the type who would hesitate to take what he wants. Perhaps _take_ is too strong a word, Chikage thinks, shuddering as Azuma ghosts fingertips along his spine. Perhaps Azuma simply enjoys making what he wants come to him instead.

Azuma’s bedroom demeanor is too soft to signal dominance, too obliging to manipulate. Chikage is usually quite capable of sensing hidden intent, but for once, he doesn’t have the slightest clue what Azuma could want from him, what Azuma could be getting out of this. Nonetheless he lets Azuma press him onto the bed, ply him with kisses, tease his rim with lube-slick fingers until Chikage’s moans fill the perfumed bedroom. By the time that Azuma finally- _finally_ \- slides into him, smooth and deep and slow, Chikage feels like he could melt.

Azuma makes Chikage see stars time after time, with his mouth, his hands, his cock, until Chikage is slumped boneless on his bed, sticky with sweat and scented oils and other fluids. Through the haze of his post-orgasmic mind, Chikage still cannot figure out how taking him apart like this benefits Azuma even one little bit. And when he asks, framing it as a joke beneath a half-hearted smirk, Azuma replies to his question with an equally opaque smile.

“Did you feel good, Chikage?” Azuma asks, propping his chin up with his hand. “If so, then I got what I wanted.”

 

With Itaru, there is considerably less finesse involved. Chikage comes home early after a canceled meeting, only to find his roommate on the couch with one hand shoved down his sweatpants. “Ah shit,” Itaru says. “Couldn’t you have called ahead or something?”

Chikage steps into the room and closes the door behind him, but does not break eye contact. Itaru, meanwhile, makes no motion whatsoever to remove his hand from his dick. A minute-long silent standoff takes place before Itaru finally slumps his head back against the couch and groans. “My god, senpai. Don’t just stand there, help me out here.”

Judging by the way that Itaru’s cock twitches in Chikage’s grip, he either had no expectation that Chikage would actually do this, or he’s been thinking about it for a long time. Chikage isn’t sure how long Itaru’s been pent up for, but it’s enough that he’s leaving saliva stains on the couch and terrible creases on Chikage's work shirt where he's gripping on for dear life. “Fuck, senpai,” Itaru chokes out, twisting against and into Chikage's hold from behind. “You tryna’ kill me? This isn't PVP, you know. Unless we're frotting, in which case-” Chikage slides a hand under Itaru's shirt and tugs on his nipple, hard, just to make him _shut up_. To his credit, Itaru doesn't shut up so much as he muffles his scream against the couch cushions and violently creams his pants.  

“Huh,” Chikage says, as he wipes his hand clean on Itaru's defiled sweatpants. Itaru collapses back against him like he'd just ejaculated half his organs. It's both cute and pathetic at the same time. In contrast, Chikage has taken off nothing but his suit jacket and still looks mostly put-together, save for the wrinkles that Itaru's wrung into his shirt. “Well, that was fun Chigasaki. I'll be sure to text you next time I come home early so you have a few extra minutes to finish.”

Chikage pulls away to stand, only to be caught by Itaru’s hold on his belt buckle. “Hey, senpai,” Itaru murmurs. “We're playing Co-op, aren't we?” His words are as inscrutable to Chikage as always, but there’s no mistaking the look in his eye as he crawls to his knees. “So it’s my turn to carry.”

 

Chikage always knew that he'd walk in on Tasuku and Tsumugi with one another; he’d just never expected to be invited as well. But after Winter’s latest wrap-up party, even Tasuku is so drunk that he recruits Chikage to help carry Tsumugi back to their room. The moment that Tsumugi is deposited into bed, he immediately pulls Tasuku down into a sloppy, inebriated kiss. Chikage tries to politely excuse himself down the ladder before he sees more than he should, but he stops in his tracks when he hears his name.

“Utsuki? Where are you going?” Tasuku looks at him with expectant, wide eyes. 

Tsumugi beckons with outstretched arms. “Chikage-san, you too.”

Chikage must be more affected by the alcohol than he thought, because he soon finds himself moaning around Tasuku’s cock as Tsumugi bottoms out inside him. Tsumugi is every bit the leader in bed as he is in the theater, pulling Chikage’s hips back to thrust in deeper, and Tasuku is too polite to complain about the loss of Chikage’s mouth on him, but the displeasure on his face is clear as day.

“Aww, Taa-chan, are you pouting?” Tsumugi coos. “I’m sorry, Chikage-san’s mouth felt good, didn’t it?” Tasuku grunts in annoyance, but seems to interpret this as permission to thrust into back into Chikage’s mouth, spitroasting Chikage between them. As he continues to be pushed back and forth, fucked thoroughly from both ends, he barely registers the exchange of endeared laughter and harmless banter going on above him. Chikage is receiving the brunt of the physical stimulation while Tasuku and Tsumugi aren’t even touching one another, but he distinctly feels as though he’s missing out on something. The two of them are on a different wavelength altogether.

“Honestly,” Chikage complains afterwards, though he came twice so he’s really not in a position complain. “I’ve third-wheeled couples before, but this is something else altogether.” He just gets that surprised, wide-eyed look from the childhood friends again.

“Oh, Tsumu and I aren't a couple,” Tasuku says as he hands Tsumugi a lighter.

Tsumugi nods in agreement as he lights his post-coital cigarette. “We just know each other well, that’s all.”

 

For someone so controlled, Guy is surprisingly easy to rile up if you know the right words. The right words just happen to be mildly treasonous and whispered in Zahran. Chikage feels Guy hoisting him up by the collar only moments before his back slams into the wall. “You will not make such threats against Citronia again,” Guy warns, his voice deep and coarse with rage. The intensity of his gaze threatens to run Chikage through and he slowly leans against Chikage's throat, threatening to choke him. It's all incredibly arousing.

Chikage does not speak, but maintains careful eye contact with Guy as he places both hands on the fist pressing on his throat. Then, he pushes down. _Harder_. Guy watches him, expression shifting from apprehension to confusion, then clarity. “Ah, I see. So this was your goal all along,” he says with an edified nod. “That can certainly be arranged.”

Chikage knew that Guy was strong, likely the only one at Mankai whose training rivaled the Organization's, but it's thrilling to find out exactly how strong. He pins down both Chikage's wrists with one hand and restrains the rest of him with equal ease. Much to Chikage's horror and delight, he finds himself unable to escape from Guy's ironclad hold, despite his genuine best efforts. He strains against Guy's grip, pressing  squirming against the cagelike frame of Guy's body pressing him down against the mattress from behind.

“Oh? Do you intend to make this a contest?” Guy's intonation is deadpan, but Chikage would have to be blind not to see the smoldering heat in his eyes. Chikage barely manages to pull a wrist free from Guy's hold before Guy suddenly grabs him by the back of the head and slams down with double the force. “ _Do not test me,_ ” Guy growls, and the sound of it shoots straight to Chikage's dick. This time, Chikage is truly rendered immobile, unable to do anything but grind his suddenly agonizing erection against the mattress and moan.

By the time that they're finished, Chikage's whole body feels like the world's most satisfied bruise. Guy does the courtesy of wiping him down and Chikage finds himself trembling at a much gentler touch. “And here I thought moments ago that you were going to kill me,” Chikage comments drily as Guy rubs ointment into the bruises on his neck. He's met with a perplexed stare, the kind that Guy wears when he's gravely misheard something.

“Of course not. I was monitoring your vitals and nonverbal distress signals the whole time,” Guy says. “The intent was never to harm you.”

 

It's only a few days later when Citron accosts Chikage after Spring Troupe practice. “So I hear you've been having fun with Guy,” he says, eyes shining with mirth. “Practicing Zahran, that is.” Chikage does not confirm or deny, but he should've known that the vassal would never keep secrets from his liege.

“Let me teach you some phrases as well!” Citron proclaims. “We'll have you fluent in the dick of time.”

“The _nick_ of time, you mean,” Chikage corrects, with a creeping sense of dread. Even then, Citron still wouldn't be using the phrase correctly.

Citron's grin goes from cheerful to shit-eating in record time. “I know what I said.”

Chikage has of course seen Citron use a riding crop during reruns of _Boy Alice in Wonderland_ . What he didn't know was that Citron had kept the prop for personal use. “ _Tell me, Chikage_ ,” Citron says, sitting cross-legged on the bed as he drags the leather tip along the side of Chikage's cheek. Now speaking in his native tongue, Citron's voice is completely absent of its usual comedic lilt, and nothing short of a purr. “ _In Zahran, what do you call me?_ ”

Chikage hazards an educated guess. “ _Citronia_?” Probably not the answer that Citron is looking for, but it would be a lot easier to concentrate if his riding crop weren't tracing figure-8's around Chikage's nipples.

Citron immediately shakes his head. “ _Not quite. You haven't earned the right to call me by name_ ,” he replies loftily. “ _The word you're looking for is 'Lord’ Citronia. Do you know the literal meaning of 'Lord’ in Zahrian?_ ”

Chikage does not know, and Citron's smile widens magnanimously. “It means 'to kneel’,” he says in perfect Japanese. He brings the riding crop down across Chikage's chest with a resounding crack, and while the blow stings, it's clearly more a warning than a punishment. “ _So kneel_.”

Despite his known disdain for the pretenses of royalty, Citron seems to take great delight in playing the tyrant, leaving Chikage with a collection of flogging welts all over his chest, thighs, backside. He might have to borrow that bruise ointment from Guy again. But once the scene is over and the riding crop is put away, Citron returns to sunny smiles and muddled phrases. It's almost as if he were an actor or something. “That was so fun, Chikage! I feel like I know you so much batter now!”

Chikage raises an eyebrow. “Don't tell me this is how you get to know all your subjects.”

“We had a bonding moment, didn't we?” Citron flashes him yet another naughty grin before raising a foot to wriggle his toes. “ _Or else I'd never have known that you could come from my feet alone!_ ”

 

After both Zahrans, Chikage seeks out Omi anticipating a similarly intense encounter. He’s heard of the Mad Wolf, knows about Omi’s past- what else would he expect? After everything that happened with Nachi, Omi is still a little too guarded to seek out one night stands or a relationship. But it takes little convincing for him to agree to a mutually beneficial release of tension between troupe mates, especially with the promise of no strings attached.

So they make excuses to spend the night out, book a hotel room, and Chikage expects to get dicked down into the mattress from the moment they close the door. What he gets is Omi chivalrously offering to let him use the shower first. As Chikage sits on the hotel bed and blow dries his hair while waiting for Omi to finish showering, he reflects that this scenario bears no small resemblance to the first time of a young couple. Chikage is far from a blushing virgin and this is definitely not his first time, but he never had the luxury of something as mundane as this in his early experience. It’s… Nice.

Omi spends on inordinate amount of time on kisses- on the lips, the cheeks, down Chikage’s throat and against the heel of his palm. His lips are fleeting and gentle as he lavishes attention and affection on almost every part of Chikage’s body. It’s a ticklish, unfamiliar, and rather odd ritual, Chikage muses, as he leans against the broad span of Omi’s chest. He doesn’t think he’s ever been with anyone who’s spent as much time on foreplay, nor is it particularly arousing foreplay either. Nonetheless, it makes Chikage feel warm, and it’s not unpleasant, so he allows Omi to continue trailing kisses down the curve of his spine without complaint.

It takes forever for Omi to even get hard, and by the time that he has his dick lined up, Chikage is beginning to lose patience. “Fushimi, please,” he groans, injecting just a hint of artificial lust into his plea. “I want you _in_ me already, now.”

This prompts some reaction from Omi, but not the kind that Chikage had hoped for. He kisses Chikage again- for the millionth damn time- and cups the side of his face tenderly. “No need to rush, Chikage-san,” he says, stroking Chikage’s cheek with his thumb. “Take it easy.” Chikage is just about to open his mouth to goad him on further, but whatever taunt he had prepared turns into a stifled moan as Omi finally pushes in, and damn if the stretch, the girth of him isn’t completely worth the wait.

Even while they’re fucking, Omi is terribly gentle and gently terrible, his hips moving at a languid pace that pushes and drags at all the best spots inside of Chikage. It’s not quite enough to bring him to climax, not yet, but the slowness and softness of it all makes something else tighten in the pit of Chikage’s stomach. This isn’t him that Fushimi Omi is making love to. It can't be him. Omi must be thinking of someone else, remembering a different, better, bygone time. Chikage wonders if this is what Omi’s first time was like.

It’s with a sickening feeling that Chikage realizes, he wishes his first time could have been like this as well. That is the thought that sends him over the edge, emotionally and physically. Chikage buries his face against the sheets, and pretends that these are tears of pleasure.

 

Chikage gets the chance to make things right with Sakuya, because Sakuya always saves him, every time. Diverging schedules and busy lives mean that their coin toss game is no longer a daily ritual, but it’s still a useful conversation starter, especially when Sakuya wants something. This time, Chikage lets him win and waits for his request, but Sakuya has a harder time asking than usual. After several minutes of hemming and hawing, he finally manages to spit it out.

“It’s about s-sex!” Sakuya stutters. “I heard that Chikage-san has a lot of experience in it, so I was wondering if you could… Teach me?”

Chikage is not surprised, nor is he blind- he has seen the way that Sakuya smiles at his phone while texting that idol boy from the collaboration a while back, and he knows exactly who this is for. They're a good match, Chikage thinks, so he's sure that Sakuya could just go in with all his doubts and inexperience, and the boy would love him all the more for it anyways. But if Sakuya wants an experienced teacher, Chikage won't turn him away.

Sakuya interprets his pause as rejection and immediately shrinks into himself. “It’s, I, I’m sorry! Please forget I said anything!”

Chikage imagines that it still takes Sakuya a great deal of bravery to ask any adult for anything. He hates that Sakuya lives with that fear. “Don’t worry, I’d be happy to,” Chikage says. “Have you ever done anything like this before?” Sakuya shakes his head, as expected, and Chikage nods warmly. “Alright then. I’ll book a hotel room for this Saturday. Leave the preparations to me.”

Chikage doesn’t just book a hotel room- Chikage books a _suite_. He buys a new enema kit and a bottle of expensive lube. He packs condoms, disposable gloves, and wet wipes. Because if Sakuya is going to entrust Chikage with his virginity, then Chikage is going to ensure that he gets the experience he deserves. But above all else, Sakuya deserves to have his first time with someone who loves him. Chikage may not be in love with Sakuya, but he does love him. For Sakuya, he’ll do everything he can.

When Sakuya sees everything that Chikage has prepared, he is, predictably, embarrassed as hell. But Chikage walks him through all the steps, demonstrating and accompanying him through the process of cleaning, preparation, exploration. Chikage explains the importance of using an enema. He laughs along with Sakuya when the first finger feels a bit weird inside. They take breaks in between for water, snacks, and conversation.  

Somewhere between the end of the night and beginning of morning, Chikage is laid back on the hotel’s king-sized bed, legs spread wide with Sakuya in between them. Sakuya has been growing in comfort and confidence all night, but as he positions himself at Chikage’s entrance, he seems to falter once more. “Are you sure about this?” he asks, wavering between youthful uncertainty and leaderly concern. “Nothing has to happen unless you want it to, Chikage-san.”

Chikage reaches forward and cups Sakuya’s face in both his hands. “I should be saying that to you,” he says, with a laugh. “Don’t worry, Sakuya. Take it easy.” Echoing Omi’s words, he wraps his legs around Sakuya’s waist, and hums with happiness as Sakuya pushes in.

This is what Sakuya deserves, he thinks. This is how things should be.

 

In the end, Chikage falls into bed with December again, because that's also how things should be, how they've always been. Even when the wounds of betrayal were fresh and raw and bleeding, Chikage had never been able to stay away. Now the scabs are beginning to form, and though he likes to pick at them from time to time, Chikage's starting to miss what used to be as easy as breathing.

December kisses him on the balcony after everyone is asleep, and it feels like breathing for the first time in a long while. Chikage runs his fingers through the softness of December’s hair, and tastes the sickly sweet of marshmallows on his lips. It reminds Chikage of every stolen good-luck kiss on moonlit rooftops, every blood-tinged reunion kiss after near-death missions, every sudden biting kiss through heated arguments. At the same time, it reminds Chikage of none of these at all. This is something new.

It's their first time together since August's death, their first time without him, and the space between their bodies is almost too much to bear. Chikage presses as close as he can, as if it burns not to feel December on every inch of his skin, as if this can fill the hole in their hearts. Their bodies and tongues and names overlap until Chikage engraves the memory of August deep into his bones. Until he sheds every lingering echo of August’s touch on his skin.

Chikage cusses when December bites him, cries when December pushes in deep, laughs when his leg starts cramping from the position they’ve twisted around one another. Sex with December is messy and painful and leaves Chikage feeling euphoric. It hurts like healing and has been a long time coming.

Once all is said and done, Chikage lays breathless, emotionally and physically strung out atop the soiled sheets. December tucks himself against Chikage’s side as usual, fingers toying with cum trails left on Chikage’s belly.

“I missed this,” Chikage says, too worn out for anything but honesty.

“The sex?” 

Chikage snorts in laughter and wraps his arms around Hisoka’s head. “Sure. _Sure_ , that’s it. The sex,” he says, meaning anything but. “Let’s do this again sometime.”

And so they do. Time and time again. 

**Author's Note:**

> There was originally going to be a Sakyo x Chikage scene in there as well, all I could think of was "idk chikage doesn't really look anything like izumi huh" and "haha, jizz on glasses".
> 
> Big, big thank you to Mankai Eccentrics, whom this fic would not exist without, and especially big thank you to Rachel for letting me yeet this into your inbox all week.


End file.
